Deepest Fear Revealed: Rewritten
by Potterworm
Summary: What if Harry Potter faced the boggart that day in Professor Lupin's class? What if his deepest fear was not a dementor? Watch as a simple boggart rocks the foundation of Harry's world and the world of all those who know him. Warning: child abuse *hiatus*
1. Prologue: Hidden Hurts and Hidden Truths

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary: **What if Petunia Dursley resented her sister, even more? What if Vernon Dursley took it upon himself to seek vengeance for his wife? What if Harry Potter faced the boggart that day in Professor Lupin's class? What if his deepest fear was not a dementor? Watch as a simple boggart rocks the foundation of Harry's world and the world of all those who know him. Warning: child abuse

**Beta: **MetalCloud and Lunicle (from the harrypotterfanfiction forums)

**Story Note:** This is the rewritten version of my old story Deepest Fear Revealed. The inspiration is the same, but the writing is a bit different.

**Deepest Fear Revealed: Rewritten **

**By Potterworm**

**Prologue: Hidden Hurts and Hidden Truths**

Sometimes, the minutest details can make all the difference in the world.

In another universe, not much different than the one we know, Petunia was even bitterer towards her sister, Lily. Instead of avoiding the topic of her _freakish _sister, she spoke often of the horrible crimes Lily had committed against her. She ranted to Vernon, and she let out all the pent up emotions of her childhood. She told Vernon of her resentment and her hurt. She told Vernon of her dislike. She told Vernon everything there was to tell - from her point of view, of course.

Now, Vernon Dursley may have been a brute of a man, but if there was one thing he concerned himself with, it was the happiness of his family. So when a young babe was dropped on his doorstep, he vowed vengeance against the boy and the society which had ruined his wife's childhood.

Other than their love for each other, Vernon and Petunia also shared another trait. Normalcy (and their desire for it) often controlled their life. And, by association, it controlled Harry's life too. He needed to be normal.

And so this other universe is not much different than the one we know. And it remains the same from any outsider's perspective. But when you look beneath the surface, you can find some things that have changed, and these changes are not for the better. As years go by, deepest fears will be revealed, as will deepest truths.

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As Harry wandered towards his common room, he barely noticed his surroundings. It had only been a week since the term had begun, and the fact that magic was _real _still shocked him. He couldn't help but wonder if his life would have been better had he known about magic. Would it be different? Could he have saved himself?

It didn't matter now, he thought to himself. No point in living in the past. Besides, everything would be better now. He could heal himself now. Finding the spell in the library books had taken him the whole week, but finally he would be okay. Normal, even. When Hagrid had told him about magic, shock had overwhelmed him. Once he was thinking rationally again, though, he had prayed for this moment.

He was interrupted from his musings by the voice of Ron Weasley coming from behind him. "Harry, where have you been?"

"Oh, I was finishing up the Potions essay. If I didn't finish it, Snape would murder me," Harry half-lied. He really did need to finish the homework; it was their first essay assigned, and he really wanted to start his magical education off well.

"So you went to the library?" Ron said, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Yeah, it was strange…there were books and everything…" Harry joked back in reply. Everyone knew Ron avoided the library like the plague.

"Very funny! Did you run into that know-it-all, Granger?"

"Yeah, she was huddled up in the corner under a pile of books," Harry replied, gesturing around to show the size of the pile. It went up to his head.

"Next time, do your homework in the Common Room. You won't have to run into her then."

"Alright, Ron," he said to Ron's retreating form.

As Ron made his way up to the dormitory, Harry glanced suspiciously around the common room. When his eyes saw no one, he snuck into the corner, behind a chair. Hiding in the shadows, he opened his book bag. He tossed out a few books next to him, Herbology, Transfiguration, and Potions, before he found what he was looking for. He looked at the yellowed parchment in his hands and read his untidy scrawl. With a nod, he waved his wand a few times, muttering "_Episkey_."

Harry gave a sigh of relief and put his books back in his bag before continuing to the dormitory.

Ron's snores were already filling the room, as Harry began to change into his worn nightclothes His back arched in anticipation as he pulled off his sweater, but he gave a sigh of relief when the pain was slight. He twisted around awkwardly to see his back and saw only faded marks. He examined his arms and saw the same.

It had worked. Normal. He felt normal.

His prayer was answered.

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The weeks passed slowly, but classes progressed nicely. Harry was fascinated by some aspects of magic and bored by others. What struck him the most was the sense of normality that had fallen upon him. He lived for weeks like these. Unfortunately, all good things come to an end, and the same was true for Harry at the third week of school.

It was early in the morning, and he was taking his shower before the rest of the dorm woke up. Despite the healing spell, he still had scars on his back, and a few nasty bruises that he hadn't been able to heal. They were faded, but the scars were still noticeable, so he had yet to shower at the same time as his classmates.

He soaked up the warmth like a sponge, because the thrill of taking a long shower still hadn't worn off. Suddenly, as he was toweling himself off, and the steam had begun to dissipate, he heard someone coming into the room. He lunged for his shirt, and threw it on, and his trousers followed a mere moment later. When he looked up, he saw a tired looking Seamus rubbing at his eyes, half-asleep.

Seamus hadn't seen a thing, and he didn't even notice Harry, due to his being half-asleep. It didn't matter though, the normality was over, and the tentacles of dread were wrapping their way around Harry's stomach again.

The moment he finished changing, he grabbed his bag and raced to the library. His heart beat wildly as he headed towards the shelf. He noticed Madame Pince give him a strange look, but he assumed it was because of his frantic expression. He tried to tell himself to breathe as he grabbed a quill from his bag - nearly stabbing himself in the process - and a piece of parchment. He flipped through the book, and then another, and another, before finally he found what he needed. He scribbled down the spell, and the slam of the closed library book echoed in the library, before he fled to privacy.

He was hidden in a cramped bathroom stall as he stared at the parchment in his hands.

"_Dissimulo, Dissimulo, Dissimulo_," he muttered, waving his wand over his body. He glanced both ways as he left the stall. When he saw no one, he pulled up his sleeves and gave a giant sigh of relief. He twisted around to view his back in the mirror and saw nothing. There would be no more close calls.

There was absolutely nothing. No scratches, no faint outlines. Everything was normal. Everything could remain normal.

_Author's Note: Please note that Dissimulo is a fictional spell that I invented. It's Latin, and it means to conceal, disguise, or to keep secret._


	2. Chapter 1: Of Hidden Memories

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Beta: **Lunicle and MetalCloud

_Author's Note: __For the purpose of this story, I will be manipulating the time line of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. For example, Hogsmeade weekends and the dates of certain lessons will not be cannon accurate._

**Chapter 1: Of Hidden Memories **

It was a perfectly normal train ride back to Hogwarts for Harry's third year except for a few things, of course. Harry couldn't help but wince when his sore back was jostled by other people on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. It seemed that the worse the injury, the more difficult it was to heal. The only good news was that _Dissimulo _got easier with practice. Harry could do the spell easily now; it was maintaining it over long periods of time that gave him trouble.

Harry made his way across the train station and was greeted by several people as he walked through to find Ron and Hermione.

He caught sight of Hermione's bushy hair; she was making her way into a compartment, so he followed. He gave a wince as he strained his arm when opening the door, but quickly turned his grimace into a smile when he saw Ron watching him with concern.

"Hey, mate!"

"Harry," Hermione greeted him, before giving him a quick hug.

Harry half smiled, half winced again.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm fine," Harry replied. _'Everything's normal, perfectly normal.'_

Hermione cocked her head to the side for a moment before shrugging in agreement. She began to chat about her holidays before Harry suddenly interrupted her.

"Who's that?" he said, pointing to the sandy-haired man in the corner. He was so silent Harry hadn't noticed him at first.

Hermione gestured to a wooden truck above the man before saying, "Professor R.J. Lupin. He's probably the new Defense professor. He's been asleep since we got in here."

Harry nodded in agreement when he caught sight of the name engraved on the trunk.

"As long as he's better than the last two," Ron said with a smirk.

"Should we check his turban?" Harry bantered.

He and Ron talked for a little while, while Hermione rolled her eyes at their antics, until suddenly his entire body swung forward as the train lurched to a stop.

"We can't be here yet?" Hermione said, making it more of a question than a statement.

"This isn't normal…" Ron muttered.

"What's going on?"

"Why are we stopping?"

"What's happening?"

Questions seemed to flood the train's corridors as everyone stuck their heads out of their compartments to see what was going on. Ron stuck his head out of the compartment and didn't see anything except chaotic students.

He came back into the compartment when, suddenly, the lights flickered. Then they were plunged into darkness, and it seemed like the train went dead quiet. A whimper and a wail came from the hallway as Ron scrambled to close the door for safety.

"Wand, where's my wand?"

"What's happening?"

"Oh, my Go-"

Their panicked questions were cut off when the door suddenly began to open.

"Quiet," said a soft voice. "Stay quiet."

Harry's head swam as a darkly cloaked figure glided into the compartment. His thoughts seemed to stop all at once and yet go a million miles a minute at the same time. He shivered with cold. He felt himself falling, but he had no power to stop it. His knees buckled beyond his control as his breathing changed erratically. Violent screams filled his very being. He saw a shadow come from behind him. A blurred light seemed to fill the compartment.

And then as quickly as it began, it ended. It was over. The lights flickered on, but Harry lost consciousness.

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Harry awoke to an irritating slap on his cheek. He groaned for a moment before being pulled to his feet by Hermione.

He was about to ask what had happened when he noted Hermione's face. She was pale, nearly white, and her brow had a gleam of sweat. The rest of the compartment's occupants were looking at him with concern.

He cleared his throat for a moment before hoarsely asking, "What happened?"

Ron began to speak hesitantly for a moment, "The _thing_ that came in, it… looked around, and Professor Lupin made it go away. But you, well, you had some sort of… fit, and you fell to the ground. We've been trying to wake you." Ron paused for a moment to think of how to continue, but Professor Lupin thankfully took over the explanation.

"The _thing _was a dementor," he began. He paused for a moment and handed them some chocolate, indicating that they should eat it. "Dementors suck the happiness from everything around them. The dementor was a guard from Azkaban prison, searching for Sirius Bl -"

He was interrupted by a "Bloody Hell!" from Ron, and then a smack on the head to Ron from Hermione.

"Language, Ronald. And in front of a professor, honestly."

Harry gave both of them an exasperated look before gesturing to Professor Lupin to continue.

"I take it you know who Sirius Black is."

Ron and Hermione nodded in acknowledgement while Harry shook his head.

Professor Lupin glanced around and noticed none of them were eating the chocolate.

With a sigh, he said, "Eat it. It will help. I need to go to the front of the train now to ask the conductor something. Harry, I'm sure Ron and Hermione will fill you in on everything. Please meet with me in my office after the feast." And on that final note, Professor Lupin walked out of the compartment.

Harry looked at the chocolate in his hands and tentatively took a bite. His body was rushed with warmth from his toes to his fingertips, and he ate more. Ron and Hermione did the same.

For a few moments, they sat in silence, simply staring at each other, not knowing what could possibly be said. Then, the eeriness passed, and Ron opened his mouth to speak.

"Sirius Black killed thirteen people with a single curse! He's a mass-murderer, and this summer, he escaped from Azkaban prison, where Hagrid went last year."

"And the dementors?" Harry questioned.

"They guard the prison like the professor said," Hermione replied.

"Merlin, they were horrible, I felt like I'd never be happy ever again," Ron added.

"Did either of you faint?" Harry said, flushing.

"No, Harry, we didn't," Hermione said, her eyes filled with concern.

They sat in silence for the rest of the train ride. Touched by darkness, they could only reflect. There was nothing they could say.

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"Well, Harry, I asked you here to make sure you were alright after what happened on the train. I would have made you come straight here, but I thought you were okay for the time being," Professor Lupin said.

"I'm okay, Professor," Harry said instantly. _'Everything is normal, Professor. Why are you asking about me? I… stupid dementors…' _He sighed inwardly.

"If you're sure?" the man said, his eyebrows crinkling with concern and worry.

With Harry's nod, the topic was closed.

"I also wanted to explain a bit more about dementors to you, seeing as you are so affected by them. Dementors are horrible creatures, among the foulest to walk the Earth. And this isn't a simple prejudice. They literally suck the happiness from everything around them. You seem to have a very strong reaction to the dementors," Professor Lupin said, watching Harry flush head to toe. "I recommend you stay away from them this year."

"Why… was I the only one who fainted? And everyone else just felt cold… I heard screams…" Harry said. He was perplexed that this had happened.

"The dementors, by sucking the happiness from everything, cause us to relive our worst memories. Your past is worse than most people's. It's nothing to do with weakness; you've simply suffered more horrors."

"I… I don't even know what the memory was…" Harry said, utterly confused.

"Nor do I, but it would be best for you to avoid them, as I said."

"But the headmaster said they'll be here all year! I'm bound to see them again! There has to be a spell to protect myself!" Harry half-yelled, frustrated.

"I - there is a spell, but it is remarkably difficult," Professor Lupin replied.

Harry shut his eyes tightly for a moment before opening them, trying to hide the disappointment and frustration the best he could.

Feeling pity for Harry, Professor Lupin offered a compromise. "I doubt this will happen, but if they bother you again, I can attempt to teach you the charm. It's known as the Patronus Charm."

For a moment, Harry paused in shock. Then he nodded in acquiescence.

"Harry, I'll admit, I've been less than honest with you about why I asked you here. I… it's so strange for me to be here, a professor, teaching. Especially teaching you. No, don't take offence, I just mean it's surprising, because, I knew your parents, especially your father. In fact, as a baby, I knew you too."

Harry's face ran through a number of emotions, suspicion, pain, hope, and more. Within a moment, his face was closed off again, as he said, "Oh?" He tried to contain his emotions and say it with the least expression possible.

"Yes, and, I was hoping that we could speak a bit, get to know each other. I could certainly tell you about your parents," Professor Lupin said with his mustered up courage.

For a moment, Harry didn't say anything, but he couldn't contain himself as his face broke into a smile. "That'd be great, Professor Lupin."

Professor Lupin smiled as well, looking relieved. "Excellent. We can meet whenever you have some spare time."

"I won't be going to Hogsmeade, so, if you don't have plans to go, we can meet then," Harry said. Inwardly, he remembered getting the form and simply throwing it into the bin. There would be no point in asking for it to be signed. He had been safer not asking.

Professor Lupin paused for a moment, remembering how excited he had been to go to Hogsmeade in his third year. Then he belatedly realized that Harry probably wasn't allowed to go as a security measure. _No need to bring more bad feelings into it then,_ he thought, and replied happily that it would be fine with him for Harry to stop in during the first Hogsmeade trip.

Harry nodded with a small smile before opening the large office door and leaving.


	3. Chapter 2: Memories Revealed

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Beta**: MetalCloud

**Chapter 2: Memories Revealed**

Late at night, Harry slipped into the common room. He saw an older student in the corner asleep with an essay resting on their lap, but apart from that, the common room was deserted. He slunk past the student and made his way into the dormitory.

Truly, it hadn't been that late when Professor Lupin let him go, but he had walked around for a bit, lost in thought. A man who knew his parents, a man who had known him as a baby; it seemed impossible. Harry had thought he had lost all his relations in the wizarding world the night his parents died. No, this man wasn't family, but he was clearly trying to make an effort. Harry quickly changed into his pajamas before plopping on his four-poster bed. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, still thinking of what had happened.

He wanted to be normal, and he did truly want to know about his parents, so he accepted the invitation to talk with Lupin. Something about him made Harry uneasy. It was as though at times, Professor Lupin could see into his soul, and yet seemed utterly lost as to what he was feeling at others…

All in all, it was a very confusing feeling. And he just couldn't understand Professor Lupin's intentions. _What did he want in return?_

Harry gave a frustrated sigh before turning to his side and drifting off to sleep.

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Harry awoke to mumbling as Seamus began to drag Ron out of bed. "Gah, it's enough you have to torture Ron by waking him up! Why me too?" he moaned, stuffing his head under his pillow.

Ron came at him with a laugh and a bucket of water. Where Ron got said bucket of water, Harry figured only Merlin would know.

After a considerable water fight and a few drying charms, they all ran into the common room. Hermione took one look at them with their matted hair and messed up clothes and rolled her eyes.

"Again?"

"Nooo…" Ron said with an innocent whistle.

Hermione lead them off to breakfast, as she muttered under her breath something that sounded distinctly like "Boys".

On the way down to the Great Hall, Harry told Ron and Hermione what Professor Lupin had said. Hermione gave a squeal of delight, and Ron slapped him on the back. Harry winced slightly, but he accepted their excitement.

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The days moved slowly with reviews of previous years' work being the primary focus of their lessons. Potions was business as usual, what with Snape hating them. Herbology, Transfiguration, none of it mattered. Although, their new classes certainly were strange. Divination was one that brought a shuttered look to Harry's face. Ron laughed at him, and yet, it brought a look of closed off pain to Harry's face. Why did he always have to be different?

Care of Magical Creatures was interesting, but with all that had been happening, it hadn't occurred to Harry how odd it would be to have a friend teaching. Sure, Hagrid was an adult, but he was Harry's first friend. To be taught by a friend was interesting, but left an odd feeling with Harry in the pit of his stomach.

Finally, came the day for Professor Lupin's class. It was an interesting class all in all, though, so far, it focused on theory and introduction. Professor Lupin had a bit of a disgusted look on his face when he realized how little they had learned last year. He explained that this year would focus on Dark Creatures.

Hermione raised her hand and asked, "Why are we learning about creatures here and not in Care of Magical Creatures?"

Professor Lupin gave a small sigh. "The wizarding world is an old one, and it has many prejudices, Hermione. Many dark creatures are not cared for or considered worth caring for. We defend ourselves against the creatures, but we do not understand them. Maybe I can help to change that. I certainly hope so."

Some students appeared interested, while a few purebloods gave looks of disgust.

Professor Lupin cut himself off from what would clearly have become a long-winded speech, and began another topic.

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Leaving Defense against the Dark Arts, there were smiles on everyone's faces for the first time in many years. Between Professor Lockhart's dangerous vanity and the unfortunate trait of Professor Quirrell having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head, Professor Lupin was like the light at the end of the tunnel. Possessions and Obliviates. Oh yes, Professor Lupin was a much better professor indeed.

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The weeks passed, slowly but surely. Ron complained about homework. Hermione did homework for fun. Everything was as everything always was. Harry practiced Quidditch, and he even won the first game. It wasn't until the third week of October that anything out of the ordinary happened.

Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast that morning to see a gaggle of whispering girls. People were talking excitedly to their friends, and some older girls were giggling like mad, blushing and waving to their classmates. "What happened to you? Where were you?" he muttered to Ron, as he slipped into the open seat next to him on the bench.

"Sorry, had to get down here, couldn't wait for you," Ron explained.

"Why'd you have to get down here?"

"It's the Hogsmeade trip!" Ron said with a shout of excitement. "I'm making plans. We're going to go to all the great shops, trust me. We can go to the Three Broomsticks and even the Shrieking Shack. It's going to be – OW! Hermione!"

Ron was cut off by an elbow in the ribs from Hermione. Ron stopped and took a look at Harry's dejected face. Ron gave them both a look of complete confusion before it seemed to dawn on him what had happened.

"NO!"

Harry nodded.

"NO! THEY CAN'T!"

Harry nodded once more, glum. Students began to point and stare at the disturbance.

"BUT THAT'S SO UNFAI – HERMIONIE!"

Hermione had elbowed him once more. Suddenly Ron flushed, showing his Weasley heritage, from head to toe. The entire Great Hall was staring at him.

"Don't make him feel worse about it, Ron," Hermione hissed venomously.

Ron quieted as he continued, "But…you couldn't convince them?"

"No," Harry muttered. It was true, even had he tried, he knew it would have been futile.

"But – why?"

"Because they're the Dursleys, and I'm me, breathing their air from the cupboard under the bloody stairs!" Harry almost shouted. '_Jeez, does Ron have to be so… tactless about it?' _He wallowed for a moment before seeing Hermione, Ron, Neville, and all the people next to him staring.

"Cupboard?" Ron mouthed.

"He's upset; he's not thinking," Hermione whispered in reply.

Harry looked at them in horror, realizing his slip. Then he let the subject drop. _'Let them think I was just hysterical.'_

Ron and Hermione didn't speak of the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend for the rest of the meal. Harry didn't speak much at all.

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When Ron and Hermione left for Hogsmeade, it was at Harry's insistence. He didn't want them to miss out. They promised to bring back lots of sweets for him though.

Harry moped, wandering through the hallways, morose with self-pity. He considered stopping by Professor Lupin's room for that chat they had planned, but was hesitant. He didn't know what to say or how to act, or even if the offer was still open.

He ended up sinking up against a hallway wall, hugging his legs to his chest as he daydreamed. He winced slightly, and then he became frustrated. It wasn't fair! The healing spell had worked for years, but now it didn't! Sure, he had the glamour spell, and that was fine, but the healing charm had made it so much easier. A flick of the wrist, and it was as though he had no difficulties at home. As though he were completely normal.

Because the Dursleys; they were normal, and he wanted them to like him. He cursed himself for wanting it, but just once he wanted Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon to look at him with something other than contempt. His thoughts roamed for a while, recalling times when he had felt this way before.

Once, he had gotten all A's on his school report. It was a feat that had left him feeling accomplished and haughty. When he ran into the kitchen, he heard something along the lines of, "Those stupid teachers failing you, what were they thinking? It must be a mistake, my Duddy-kins."

He walked in to Dudley's fake distressed face. As he came into Petunia's range of vision she focused in on him. "Boy, give me your report!"

He handed it over, waiting for praise, when the inevitable came. "I told you it was a mistake Dudley! They mixed up your report with _his_! You got all A's."

His face closed off in pain. The simple denial of his achievement hurt more than any slap. And he knew that from experience from that very night. Uncle Vernon didn't like freaky people ruining his son's records. He thought of pain, and it was like he was there again; the memory was so distinct. Uncle Vernon came home. Harry heard whispering between them from the other room. Uncle Vernon lumbered in. Harry was shoved backwards into the cupboard. He stumbled slightly, and Uncle Vernon picked him up, only to slam him into the back wall, full force. The wall rattled, and the makeshift shelf's items tumbled down. Harry was left in the cupboard for two days.

Lost in memory, he started in shock when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Harry?"

And there was Professor Lupin looking over him. "I didn't mean to startle you. You just looked lost in thought."

"Sorry," Harry stammered, taken by surprise.

"It's alright. Happens to the best of us. I was wondering where you were though. You never came to my office."

"Oh." Harry blinked owlishly up at him. "I… forgot," he lied, feeling a bit silly.

"Okay, well, there's still a lot of the day left. Would you like to come now?" Professor Lupin replied with a hint of worry in his eyes.

"O…kay," Harry said hesitantly. _Why on earth had Professor Lupin searched for him?_

Professor Lupin guided Harry with a steady hand on his shoulder, until, before he knew it, they were each drinking a cup of tea. Harry looked down at the cup in weary shock before focusing on Professor Lupin's face.

Professor Lupin was looking at him with something akin to worry. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"If hearing about your parents is too distressing, I don't need to tell you about them. We can talk about other things. I just thought you would like to hear -"

Professor Lupin stopped talking at the up and down bobbing of Harry's head. "Please tell me about them."

Lupin conceded and began to speak. He spoke of first meeting Harry's father. And then he began to tell the tale of his parents' first venture at dating. There were many references to pranks and dares (and a bit of ego-deflating also).

Harry was captivated by the tale. He hadn't known his parents didn't like each other at first. He hadn't known much at all really. Good at Charms. Good at Transfiguration. Red hair. Green eyes. A look-a-like of himself. Quidditch player. The technical things that any outside observer of his parents knew. Nothing much really. Barely anything at all.

But now he had stories of substance. Now, when he thought of his parents, he could picture not just their faces but their vibrant personalities.

So when the moonlight came through the windows of Professor Lupin's office, Harry took his leave rather reluctantly. Then, he gave a smile of pure joy to Professor Lupin, forgetting his pact at normality, forgetting his suspicion of the man's motives, forgetting everything except the stories and what they meant. They meant he had once been loved. He held onto that feeling with all he had.

Something must have shown on his face, because Professor Lupin gently said, "I have plenty more stories to tell. As I said, I spent years with your father. If you ever wish to speak with me, feel free to come. And we can speak of things other than your parents too. Don't forget, I knew you as a baby. I am equally interested in you, as I am in reminiscing," Professor Lupin said, sounding almost hopeful.

As Harry left the office, he knew that visit would remain in his mind forever. It was nice to know more. But, somehow, even more significant than his new knowledge, was the fact that someone was willing to share it with him. Someone cared.

As he wandered into the dorm room, everyone spoke with excitement of what they had seen in Hogsmeade. Ron and Hermione were hesitantly excited, as though they feared his feelings would be hurt. Harry, however, was content to listen.


	4. Chapter 3: In Which Good Things End

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Beta**: MetalCloud

**Chapter 3: In Which Good Things End **

The morning sun shone in through the window, as Harry awoke to the sound of his dorm mates shuffling around getting ready. With a yawn, he prepared for the day ahead.

While he, Ron, and Hermione, made their way down to breakfast, they chatted about various classes. They made their way into the Great Hall and sat down. A few minutes later, Neville came bumbling in, and he squeezed in across from Harry. Harry and Neville made eye contact, before immediately looking away. A flush filled Harry's face.

Hermione and Ron looked at the two of them with a question in their eyes.

"What was that about?" Hermione questioned, as Ron asked, "What's with him?"

"Nothing," Harry lied. His friends exchanged exasperated glances, but they let the subject drop.

Harry knew it wasn't nothing, as he recalled his last encounter with Neville a few days before.

_It was early as usual, as he was __changed in the bathroom. He had twisted around to view the scars on his back before reapplying Dissimulo. The spell fell every few weeks, as he didn't have the power to hold the spell consistently without breaks. Suddenly, the bathroom door had opened with a creak. Neville's pudgy hand rubbed at his eyes with tiredness apparent. Suddenly, Neville noticed someone else in the room, and froze at the sight. Harry was frozen for a moment in horror as Neville caught sight of the scars on his back. Suddenly, time started again, as Harry quickly covered his back, pulling his shirt back over his head. Neville still stood in the doorway, shocked at what he had seen._

"_Harry! What happened?"_

_Harry froze, knowing this was the closest he had ever come to being discovered. "I…got hurt over the summer in a car accident. I got a bunch of stitches. It's healing up nice, don't you think?"_

_Neville seemed perplexed at the Muggle references before saying, "But Madame Pomfrey could have healed the scars. And why didn't you tell anyone you got hurt?"_

"_Ah, Neville,, it's embarrassing. I didn't want more scars, and I didn't want people making a big deal out of it. Madame Pomfrey would just hold me hostage anyways."_

"_Oh," Neville said, as Harry headed out of the room._

"_Please don't tell anyone."_

_Neville nodded._

It seemed Neville was more embarrassed than he was, judging by Neville's current expression. However, Harry was mortified that someone had seen his injuries. He resolved to be extra careful with the disguise spell. Only letting it fall when he was in the privacy of a stall, locked, of course. He had taken a risk, and it hadn't been worth it. All he had to do now was hope that Neville kept his word.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

The days passed with nothing of consequence happening. The nights, however, were cause for concern. It was late at night in the middle of November, and it was an ordinary night, if ever there was one in a magical school. It was around one o'clock in the morning when a scream filled the room - a heart-wrenching wail that woke them all within an instant.

Seamus reached, half-asleep, for his wand.

Dean jerked straight awake.

Neville tumbled out of bed.

Ron looked back and forth wildly.

Harry screamed.

Ron jumped over to the bed and tried to shake Harry awake. "C'mon, mate. It's just a dream."

Neville stood hesitantly, unsure of what to do.

Seamus and Dean held back, watching in concern.

And Harry screamed.

Minutes later, though it seemed like hours, his screams died down slightly. Then they became half-crazed mumbles under his breath. "No, don't. No, please!"

It took Ron a moment to realize, but Harry was pleading. "No, please, don't. Please, I'll be quiet."

And then he appeared to awake. He backed up frantically when he saw the shadows leering in front of him. His eyes were wild and crazed, as he muttered, pleas of "No, don't. Sorry, please. Don't. No." They all were looking at him with a mixture of horror and confusion.

He backed up so much, he rammed into the headboard of the bed. This seemed to jolt Harry from the throes of his hallucinatory nightmare, as he suddenly blinked at them, quite like an owl. His face was pale and flushed at the same time. His brow was drenched with sweat. He fought to calm his breathing, as he tried to remember his location. Suddenly, the world slipped into focus, as Ron put on his glasses for him.

Ah. It was better to be blind, then.

Seamus, Dean, Neville, and Ron were all staring at him with complete bewilderment and concern.

"Erm…Harry?"

"Yeah," he gasped back. '_Breathe, breathe.'_

"You awake?" Ron queried.

"Yes," Harry said, hugging at his shivering legs. _'I haven't screamed during nightmares for ages. I thought it would be safe to stop using the silencing charms. With all the trouble I'm having with the glamour spell, I can't afford to use excess magic.'_

"You, okay?"

"No," he whispered in a small voice, not thinking.

Concernedly, Ron asked, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No," Harry said.

"Are you sure?" Neville piped in.

"Yes." Harry glared.

"Okay," Ron and Neville both said.

And that was that. Neville, Seamus, Dean, and Ron all went back to bed. Harry on the other hand unfurled himself, and lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. It seemed to be becoming a night-time habit of his.

He thought about his nightmare. He didn't want to share it with them all, especially them. Ron, maybe, but Seamus? Neville? Dean? No. It was awful just thinking about it. Though, sharing it with Ron would be equally awful. Harry just didn't want to see the look on their faces if he told them. If he told them what he had dreamt of, everything would change. Nothing would remain the same.

So the rest of the boys fell to sleep, slightly concerned, but none the worse. Harry, however, stared at the ceiling above his bed. And he remembered.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

He remembered pain. It had happened just the previous summer. Uncle Vernon had given him an enormous list of chores. He had worked all day, with no breaks, no water, and no food, nothing. He worked, and he worked. But when Uncle Vernon came home, he still hadn't finished in time. The dream had been a bit of a blur, because the memory was too. All he remembered was being shoved into his bedroom, slammed into the barred window. Uncle Vernon was purple in the face, filled with rage and fury. His meaty hands surrounded Harry's neck, to the point where he couldn't breathe. He was given a moment of reprieve, when Uncle Vernon took his hands off, only to be dropped to the ground. He crumpled at the feat of his uncle. Then, Uncle Vernon took off his long leather belt. And it began. Again.

His legs were attacked with a surprising fortitude. Again. And again. And again. And again. Smack. Crack. Smack. Crack. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to escape and crawl away, but that just gave Uncle Vernon a new place to injure. His back was whacked and hit without reprieve.

Eventually, a higher being granted him the mercy of passing out. He awoke hours later. He legs were welted and stung almost unbearably, and his back ached horribly. For the rest of the summer, they healed slightly, but he knew the spells would help him once he got to school. It was his light at the end of the tunnel. Now, he had finally made it to the end of the tunnel, only to find that the light had gone out.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

Harry arose early the next morning, and he made his way down to the common room. He read his Defense Against the Dark Arts text for a while. Time passed so quickly, that before he knew it, Hermione was staring over him. She chuckled at his expression, filled with shock, before commenting on "getting lost in a good book."

The day passed like any other, until it came time for Defense Against the Dark Arts. They all walked into the room, chattering excitedly, wondering what lesson Lupin would have in store for them. They all sat down, when suddenly, the door was swung open. In walked Professor Snape.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

An hour later, with much grumbling, the class left the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"I wonder where Professor Lupin was."

"I don't know."

"I hope he's back soon."

"I can't believe we have to do such a long essay."

"And on werewolves too!"

"We're nowhere near that far."

"It's so unfair."

The conversations washed over Harry as though he wasn't even there. He wondered where Professor Lupin was. He felt almost betrayed when he realized that the professor was gone. It was silly and stupid, and, logically, he knew that. However, he couldn't help but feel abandoned. They had shared something that Hogsmeade afternoon, and Harry didn't want to lose that.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

The next Defense Against the Dark Arts class came quickly. Too quickly. Harry glanced around in the classroom. When he saw Professor Lupin at the desk, he walked in hesitantly, and took a seat near the back.

"Class, I fell ill, and that's why Professor Snape covered for me. You won't have to do that essay however."

Harry couldn't decide how to feel. On one hand, he was glad to know that Professor Lupin had not simply abandoned them. On the other hand, he was worried about Professor Lupin having fallen ill. According to some older students, he had missed lessons last month too. He was also a bit worried that Professor Lupin wouldn't want to bother with him if he was worried about his own health. When Professor Lupin caught his eye, his hesitance must have shown, because the professor gave him a small smile.

"Today, we will be having a practical lesson. In the wardrobe behind me is our first magical creature that we will be studying."

With the introduction, all eyes turned to the cabinet. As though it was aware of the audience, it rattled ominously.

"Can anyone tell me what a boggart is?"

To no one's surprise, Hermione's hand raised instantly.

When Professor Lupin nodded in acknowledgement, she began to recite the text book definition.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

Before Harry knew it, it was his turn in front of the boggart. Professor Lupin was in the back of the room, trying to comfort one of the girls who had become overly frightened.

As Harry approached, his mind was running a mile a minute. He wasn't sure what his boggart would be, but he was afraid he knew. It couldn't be…. It wouldn't be? He wasn't afraid of… he wasn't. He went through his inner mantra trying to convince himself, but as he approached the wardrobe, he actually became more frightened.

Suddenly, Professor Lupin must have realized it was Harry's turn, as he hurried towards the front of the room and said, "No, Harry, you don't have to –"

It was too late. With a crack, the giant spider Ron had faced morphed into Harry's deepest fear. It wasn't what the class had expected.


	5. Chapter 4: Deepest Fear Confronted

**Author's Note: **There are some non-cannon events in this chapter, aside from the abuse. So consider this your official AU notice.

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Beta**: MetalCloud

**Chapter 4: Deepest Fear Confronted **

The giant spider morphed and twisted into a whale of a body. "BOOOOY!"

Shocked, Harry backed up slowly, his eyes entranced by his uncle's face. Had he looked away, he would have seen Seamus and Dean glancing at each other in confusion. Had he looked away, he would have seen Hermione sharing an odd look with Ron, before Ron's confused glance changed into one of horror. Had he looked away, he would have seen Ron whisper in Hermione's ear, and her expression matching his a moment later.

Had he looked away, he wouldn't have felt disgusted with himself; he wouldn't have felt terrified.

But Harry didn't look away.

His eyes shone with horror as he saw his uncle in front of him. He backed away quickly as his uncle's hand rose, and he stumbled into a few desks. The circle of students around him backed away slowly. Hermione's voice whispered to him, "Riddikulus, Riddikulus, say it, Harry, say it." He raised his shaking hand and pointed his wand at his uncle, as he stuttered out the spell. His uncle, instead of cracking away, came closer, leaning in for a smack.

His thoughts were flying a mile a minute. _'Uncle Vernon? Oh god…oh god…okay, he's not really here. Say the spell. Say it. You can do it. Say it. Oh…oh, he's raising his hand, oh god. I'll be good; I swear I'll be good. Please don't. Please, not here, not now, not in front of everyone. I'll be good; I swear, Uncle. Please, no.'_

Professor Lupin was staring at him from the back of the room, trying to fight his way through the crowd of students. Harry's thoughts were still running, but all that escaped him was a, "Please no."

As his boggart uncle approached him, roaring, face purple, Professor Lupin finally was next to Harry. He ignored Harry's stutters as the boggart turned its attentions on him. No one noticed the moon crack away, as they were all focused on Harry.

Harry looked at all of them, and then his eyes flicked back to where his uncle had been. He made eye contact with Ron for a moment who had a look of fury on his face. Then he looked at Hermione, who had her hand covering her mouth and looked close to tears.

The rest of the class looked confused and curious. _What had terrified the Boy Who Lived?_

"Well, class, not everyone gets it on the first try. Harry, please meet me after class, and we can discuss extra tutoring so you do well on the exams." Professor Lupin swiftly changed the topic. Everyone scrambled to their desk as he began to explain the homework assignment. Harry sunk into his chair, still glancing over at the spot where his boggart had stood, every so often. Ron was glancing at him with worry, and finally muttered, "Okay?"

Harry's eyes had a dazed sort of look to them as he nodded. _'Maybe they won't figure it out. Maybe…this can still work out fine. Everything will be okay…'_

When class ended fifteen minutes later, Professor Lupin gestured for Harry to stay behind. Ron and Hermione stood by the doorway, waiting for him, before the professor signaled for them to go away.

"Have a seat, Harry," Professor Lupin said with a sigh.

Harry stayed standing. "I…I have classes, Professor."

"I'll write you a note. I think it's important that we discuss what's happened here."

'_Play it cool. Mention tutoring.' _"I don't normally have problems with lessons. I can get Hermione to tutor me."

"Harry, this past Hogsmeade weekend, I very much enjoyed speaking to you," Professor Lupin began.

Harry cocked his head to the side in confusion, before deciding to go along with the change in subject. "I enjoyed speaking with you too, Professor."

"When James and Lily were killed, I faced many difficulties. I guess you could call it a midlife crisis. I traveled the world, half-mad, to be honest. I flitted from job to job. I didn't live, not like I should have. One thing that I regret deeply is waiting so long to come back. When I first left Britain, I told myself it would only be for a few weeks. Then it became a few months. Before I knew it, it had been thirteen years. I very much hope that I can regain your trust after all I have done, not visiting you, and certainly not upholding my duty as your parents' old friend." Professor Lupin took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Professor, hearing stories about my parents, it was wonderful. I…" Harry paused for a moment. "I never really knew a lot about them. I'm grateful towards you, not angry. What are you trying to tell me?"

"Before your parents died, I told them that I would look after you. I don't think I've done that."

Harry mouth stopped mid word, as he realized where the conversation was headed. _'Play it cool, Boy Who Lived cool. Think, think. Play to his emotions.'_

"Professor, I understand why you left. I get it. You were grieving. I don't hold it against you."

"Harry, I…I'm not going to play games here. You went to stay with Petunia, Lily's sister, right?"

"Yes. Aunt Petunia doesn't like to talk about Mum. She was deeply distressed by her death," he parroted the words Uncle Vernon had said to him from the age of eleven.

"Doesn't your uncle tell you anything though?"

"No, sir. Uncle Vernon didn't know my mum well," he continued to recite from memory.

"Oh, Harry," he said, shaking his head, in what Harry was sure was disgust. "I know he knew her. James talked about the dinners they used to have with Petunia and her boyfriend."

Harry's face froze for a moment, like a deer in headlights, before he regained stoic control. "Maybe Aunt Petunia had a different boyfriend at the time."

"Harry, please. I told you before that I'd like to know you. Trust me."

"I'm sorry, sir. Uncle Vernon must have been trying to shield me from more traumas. Knowing other people knew my parents, but that I could never meet them, used to upset me when I was young. I hadn't realized he cared for me enough to try to protect me like that."

Professor Lupin sighed for a moment, before catching a glance at Harry's fidgeting frame. His eyes kept glancing at the door. He looked like a cornered hippogriff, ready to take off. And that was when Lupin knew his suspicions were correct.

"Harry, why wouldn't you try? Magic, anything? Why would you protect him?"

"Sir?" Harry's eyes bugged out.

"Let me show you something Harry," Professor Lupin said, standing. He walked over to a drawer at his desk. Muttering to unlock it, he shuffled through papers for a moment. He pulled out a leather book, and carried it back over to where Harry was sitting.

"I keep this with me always," Lupin said, opening the album. Inside, Harry saw a photo of his mother and father under an oak tree, he recognized from the grounds. His mother's eyes sparkled and his father had an arm loosely draped over her shoulder. They were mid laugh. As Lupin shuffled through the pages, Harry saw his parents' faces, along with a few others, before the shuffling finally stopped mid-way through the book.

"I took these pictures all throughout Hogwarts." A moment later he pointed to a picture. Looking at it, Harry felt his heart sink. _'Oh no. He recognized him. Ooh no. Oh no.'_

Staring back at Harry was a picture of his mother, his father, Petunia, and Vernon sitting in a restaurant booth. They were all smiling. Harry never saw them smile like that at him.

"Sir?" _'Play dumb.'_

"Lily's parents passed away about a month after this picture was taken, in our seventh year. Lily no longer had a home, especially not with her sister. It was the last time Lily had a visit from her sister. This was the first and last photo I had of the four of them. When Lily and James passed, I had no idea you'd been placed with them, until after it'd been years, and I was not in a position to contest it."

"Sir, I'm fine there. They just don't like to talk about magic. It's not a problem with me," he feebly protested.

Professor Lupin stood again, pacing in circles around the desk at which Harry sat in. He shook his head every few seconds, as if to clear it. "You were the savior of the wizarding world, how could no one have noticed? How could no one have known!? Lily was devastated that year. Devastated! Why you were placed there, I'll never know. It's Sirius all over again," he mumbled.

Harry, meanwhile, was focusing on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

"Petunia was changed by their death. Devastated, and permanently changed. I had hoped it wasn't so. Please, Harry," he said turning. "Had I known, I wouldn't have allowed it. I would have figured out a way."

"Sir! I'm fine with my relatives! I'm f-fine with them!"

'_What's he playing at? Trying to pretend he cares. Trust me? Honestly, like that's worked so well with past teachers. Oh god, his face. Maybe he…no…even if he does care, I can't tell him. He's already said he only cares because of his duty, and duty won't keep me away from Vernon. Duty won't protect me.'_

"Harry, if you are truly fine there, then why is your uncle your biggest fear?"

"Sir, that's not my uncle."

"Harry, please. Look," he said, his arm sweeping over the photo album. Uncle Vernon's face gleamed back at them.

"Sir, I, Uncle Vernon just gets upset sometimes. He doesn't like magic."

"And that made you fear him more than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? More than the dementors? More than anything else?"

"Sir? I…" Harry's resolve was breaking. Never before had someone taken such an interest in his life. Part of him was furious at being cornered like this. The other part was reveling in the obvious care that Professor Lupin was showing towards him. Both parts of him were confused on how he should act. Should he do what Uncle Vernon would want? Or should he trust the only adult who seemed to care?

"Harry, you must understand. I am more than your professor. I am more than your parents' old friend. I…talking with you that weekend was like bringing a light back into my life. It was the first time I had felt like I had a family in twelve years. James was my family. You are too."

"Sir, he just gets upset sometimes. I don't know what you are trying to imply." _'Except the only secret I've tried to keep my entire life.'_

"If you're scared, Harry, I can help. Professor Dumbledore will help. You won't have to go back there. I promise you that."

"Sir. How…how would that be possible?" he said, hesitantly, hopefully. This was the first time he had ever been told that.

"We would go to the aurors. They would take testimony, and you would be placed with a new family. Somewhere safe."

"But, sir. The family would change, nothing else would," Harry said, complete bewilderment evident on his face.

"Everything would. You wouldn't have to be afraid."

"But, I'd still be the same."

At that, Professor Lupin shifted in his seat. "Please, elaborate. I'm not sure I understand the situation."

"Well, I mean, it'd still be me, right? So I'd still do the same things. So nothing would change."

Professor Lupin swallowed heavily. "And…"

"Sir, please don't," Harry said, distressed. _'I can't do this. I can't lose him, when I haven't even gained him yet.'_

"Harry, I can't help if you don't tell me. If I'm on the wrong track here. If I'm accusing them of the wrong things, then I need to know."

"Well, punishments. Discipline is still the same in most families."

Professor Lupin's eyebrows crinkled for a moment, before he asked, "What type of discipline?"

"Sir, please, I…you've been so nice to me. I don't want you to be angry."

"Harry, please."

"Well," he began, hesitant again. _'Okay, well, he's not angry yet. Maybe, maybe, he'll understand, and he won't get mad at me, and he won't tell Uncle Vernon I told. Maybe.'_

"It's normal, stuff you see. If I don't finish cleaning the kitchen, I go to bed without dinner. If I don't get home on time, I sleep in the garden. If I get in a fight," he listed, _'with Dudley,' _"I keep the injuries. It makes sense."

"Harry, do Ron or Hermione ever go to bed without dinner?"

"I'm not sure, sir." Harry's face was the epitome of perplexed.

"Are they made to keep painful injuries?"

When asked that, Harry couldn't lie, "No, sir." He remembered Ron saying his mum had healed the twins' and his injuries when they had gotten into a fight, before grounding them.

"Harry, your relatives are wrong to punish you in the way they do. The legal system works in your favor here. You need not tell me everything. You have every reason not to trust me. That being said, Gryffindors are brave, and you need to be brave here. I need to take you to see Professor Dumbledore. And if you explain to him what you've explained to me, I'm sure you won't be made to live with them anymore."

"But, Professor, he won't help. I've asked him to stay at Hogwarts before, and he wouldn't let me. And my letter was addressed to my cupboard," he said, before clasping his hand over his mouth.

"Your cupboard," Professor Lupin parroted, his voice breaking slightly.

"Where I slept."

"Oh, Harry. I…we need to see the headmaster."

"But, sir! Please! He'll be furious! I – he'll – please. He'll be so angry. Don't tell him. I'm fine, no one's noticed anything! No one will see!" Harry was beyond worried now, he was panicked. Hysterical.

"See what, Harry?"

'_Oh no. Now he knows.' _"My uncle…also believes in corporal punishment," was the answer, put in the best possible light.

"Can't you see how wrong this is? No matter what their discipline beliefs, no child should be afraid of their family."

And Harry couldn't help but nod. He backed up slightly, as he contemplated his situation. _'If I go with him, the headmaster will find out. He'll know. And he'll be angry. But if I don't, then Professor Lupin will be angry. And the headmaster will find out anyway. But…there is no third option, is there?'_

"Sir, I don't want my uncle to get in trouble. I'm not the same at home as I am here. I don't always behave," he said, making one last attempt.

"Harry, starvation, leaving marks from punishments, confining a child to such close quarters, taking away a child's shelter, it's wrong. It's child abuse. I know you don't believe me, but as a professor of this school, I need to tell the headmaster."

Abuse. It was an ugly word. A final word. A word that meant the end of normal chats about families and holidays. A word that meant courts and the law. A word that meant telling a lot of people a lot of things. A word that meant pain.

Harry had never applied it to his own situation. Punishments, discipline, slight neglect. Oddly enough, it was when he realized how heart-stopping that word was for him, even in the privacy of his own thoughts, that he knew something was wrong. What child can barely think the word abuse?

With a nod, he walked out of the room, muttering, "Okay, let's go." Professor Lupin swiftly followed.


	6. Interlude: And They Laugh Their Tears

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Interlude: And They Would Laugh Their Tears **

Ron was shaking like a leaf before his spider finally popped away. He backed up towards Hermione to let Harry face it. He briefly heard Professor Lupin's protests, before he turned back to see Harry's fear. He saw a huge man. He was big, bulky, and angry. Furious, in fact.

Ron turned to Hermione to see if she knew what Harry's fear was. After all, a random guy wouldn't have been what Ron had predicted. Voldemort, Quirrel, a basilik, Tom Riddle, even Malfoy would have made more sense. (Though Ron would never have let Harry live it down if Malfoy was his fear.) Hermione raised her eyebrows in confusion, mimicking Ron's own expression. She started mouthing something. Ron looked at Harry's form, and was shocked to see him backing away. It was the roar of "BOY!" that sent Ron spiraling to two summers previous. Oh, Merlin. He turned to Hermione and whispered "It's his uncle," to her. Her mouth made an o shape of horror.

A clunk turned his attention back to the front. Harry had fallen into one of the desks. Hermione began to mutter the spell under her breath, to fling Harry back into the present. It worked for a moment, as he began to stutter the spell, but his boggart just moved forward.

Ron had never seen Harry in a trance like this. It was as if Harry was two people. The scared boy facing his boggart and the boy-who-lived and was never afraid.

It was a lifetime of an instant before Professor Lupin stopped the boggart. Harry finally looked over at Ron and Hermione. His expression was lost, and they tried to give him encouraging looks. It's hard to look encouraging when you're furious and sad. When you want to yell and scream and kick and cry.

A muttered "Okay?" was all Ron got in, before Harry had to meet with the professor.

Ron and Hermione cast a concerned look at the closed door of the classroom, before they headed off with the rest of their classmates.

They trailed off to the common room, and the whispered gossiping of their classmates was the only conversation. Hermione shot a few looks of disgust at Lavender and her gossiping friends, while Ron shot threatening daggers at everyone else. _How could they gossip now?_

A few of the classmates had looks of concern, but the rest were like vultures, absorbing the discomfort of their savior.

Ron and Hermione stole a corner of the common room for themselves, and it was as though a force field surrounded them. No one approached. When they finally had privacy, Hermione cast a privacy spell to be careful, and finally, finally, let out a shriek of anger. "HIS UNCLE!"

Ron looked at her, but he didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say?

Hermione's entire body started shaking. For a moment it looked as if she was laughing, and Ron realized she was. A sick, twisted laugh escaped her, and a few tears spilled down her face. Ron started laughing out his tears too. A part of him, the outside observer part, thought it was really sick that they were laughing. And the other part of him thought that he would never call something sick again, because nothing could possibly be as sick as _that. _

Despite the privacy spell, a few people still looked over at them. They were an odd site, their faces bright red, their bodies shaking, tears spilling freely.

It was almost a quarter of an hour before they calmed down. Ron swiped his tears away angrily, and Hermione simply left hers where they were.

"His uncle," Hermione declared.

"His uncle." Ron nodded.

"What should we do?" Hermione whispered.

Ron shrugged, resigned. "What can we?"

"I feel so, so horrible Ron."

Ron titled his head to the side, gesturing for her to elaborate.

"When you told me in class that it was his uncle, it just… clicked. I knew, I knew what it meant. And I knew so easily Ron, so, so simply. How did it take _this_ for me to realize? Why did I need a boggart to help me? I'm supposed to be smart, and I… maybe we always knew."

"Hermione, it's… not your fault. It's not any of ours, except… well you know. When I saw the boggart, I didn't even recognize him at first. But then he yelled, and I remembered about his uncle from when me and Fred and George rescued him."

"God, second year. How did we not realize then? The cupboard, the bars, the starving. I guess, I thought his life wasn't perfect, but…"

And as Hermione's sentence trailed off, a wave of understanding passed over Ron. "He's so brave. What could his uncle have done, to make him be Harry's biggest fear? It had to have been so bad…"

"Harry's never afraid. What could he have possibly done to him?" Hermione said.

Hermione and Ron sat in the silence for a few moments, horrors running through their minds.

Hermione shook her head. "Sick, twisted _bastard!_" she spat.

Ron looked at her in shock, but he nodded. "Sick."

"They…abused him."

"Yeah, they did, Hermione."

"And we didn't know."

"No."

"And it's just that simple. We didn't know. He was hurting, and he never told us, and we didn't know. It's not our fault. It's that simple," she said.

Ron nodded. "Right."

"Then, why do I feel so guilty?"

And, Ron had no reply.

_Next Update: You'll find out what was happening with Harry and Professor Lupin during this interlude. _

_Author's Plea: Please review. I'd like to know what you think._


	7. Chapter 5: Fallout

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

_Author's Note: I would like to apologize for the long wait in between updates. If there are any original readers from the first version of this story still reading, I applaud your patience. One day, you will be rewarded with reading the end. This past month, I was busy writing an original novel for National Novel Writing Month. I wrote 54,610 words in November, so I didn't have much time for fanfiction. But I'm back now, and I'm a better writer too, I like to think. _

_I have also gotten a beta from another website, and she has been editing my earlier chapters for spellings, punctuation, and other errors. This chapter isn't edited yet, because I'm impatient and won't wait for her to finish with it. However, when she finishes editing it, I will edit this post so it's the corrected version. Look at the prologue and the first two chapters if you want to though. They've been edited._

**Chapter 5: Fallout **

Harry led the way to the headmaster's office, but as they neared closer, he couldn't help but feel his heartbeat accelerate. "Professor?" he said suddenly, turning around. He saw the professor staring at him intently.

"Yes, Harry?" Professor Lupin replied.

"It isn't all that bad," he began and held his hands up to stop the professor's protests. "Please believe me. I understand now, that it's not right. I _get _it, okay?" Harry said, a bit of desperation in his eyes. "But you have to believe me, that it isn't all that bad. I go hungry sometimes and Uncle Vernon gets angrier, angrier than he should, but please believe me. There are people a lot worse off then me. You know that, right?" Harry said, not even realizing that he was pleading; he was pleading for the last of his dignity.

Professor Lupin stared at him for a moment, and their brisk walk slowed, until they were facing off in the corner of a hallway. "Harry, you're probably right," he began. Despite that being exactly what Harry was hoping to hear, his heart sank a little.

"There will always be people who suffer from worse than we ourselves do. There will always be people in more pain or in worse positions. If we measure our lives by the suffering of others though, we will never be happy. There are people who are dying in pain in situations we can't imagine, and you can spend every night telling yourself that. That's a pretty poor consolation though, isn't it?" Lupin said, and nodded at the look in Harry's eyes, as though it had confirmed his words. "When your stomach's growling or your injuries are aching, it doesn't really matter how bad off the rest of the world has it, does it?" Professor Lupin asked, his voice soft.

Harry nodded, ashamed, as he ducked his head down. The professor lifted his chin upward though, and Harry saw the professor nod, noting his flinch. "Don't be ashamed. If you're ashamed, they win."

Harry kept his head up, as they walked the rest of the way to Dumbledore's office.

The gargoyle moved away, and Harry stood behind Lupin as the they came into the office. Fawkes was in the corner and Harry caught sight of the sorting hat on a shelf, doubting in that moment more than he ever had before whether he was brave enough to be in Gryffindor.

Dumbledore rose from his chair, nodding to Professor Lupin. Harry thought he caught a glint of confusion in the headmaster's eyes, but the next moment, it was gone. He must have imagined it. The headmaster knew everything after all.

"Have a seat," he told them, and Harry sat in the chair closest to the door. Professor Lupin remained standing, as though guarding Harry from the evils of the world. Harry fidgeted for a moment in the chair as Dumbledore stared at him. Feeling nervous, he stared down at his knees.

"Professor Lupin, what brings you and Harry here today?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry could feel the professor's eyes on the top of his head, but he couldn't bring himself to look up. He stared at his knees like they were the most fascinating thing in the world.

"I held Harry after my class today, because of his boggart. After talking to him, I learned of some...situations," the professor said, clearly choosing his words carefully. He glanced at Harry again and cleared his throat.

Harry looked up, and Lupin looked at him, indicating that it was time for him to speak up.

"My boggart," Harry began, pausing for a moment when he caught sight of the expectant look on Dumbledore's face.

'Did Dumbledore know?' Harry found himself wondering. His letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. The Weasley's knew he had been starved. The neighbors in Surrey had seen him weeding and doing chores at all hours of the day. He had come to Hogwarts skinnier than everyone else in his entire year. Harry hadn't wanted anyone to know of the neglect or abuse, but part of him was hurt that Dumbledore hadn't noticed. He seemed to know everything, after all. How could he not know?

But the idea of Dumbledore knowing what had gone on behind closed doors was worse than anything Harry could imagine. It was abuse after all, Lupin had said so. If Dumbledore had known the truth, that meant it was okay. That meant he would have to go back.

Harry found his voice getting shaky, as he took in a deep breath. _'Please God_,' he thought to himself. _'Please look surprised.' _"My boggart," he began again, but found himself incapable of continuing. He shot Professor Lupin a pleading look.

"Harry's boggart was his uncle," the professor began, and Harry gave him a grateful look in return, as he looked at the headmaster. His face showed no dismay, no surprise, but there it was again. A flint of confusion.

"I recognized Vernon Dursley because of the dinners Lily had taken James to, in order to meet Petunia and her boyfriend. You know what this means, headmaster. He won't be going back there," the professor commanded softly. Harry was struck with a sense of respect for Lupin, as he ordered about the strongest wizard in the world.

Headmaster Dumbledore bowed his head in acquiesce for a moment. He looked up a moment later, and there was a sadness in his eyes. "Oh, Harry," he said, and his voice held a sadness and a regret, as though asking Harry for forgiveness. "What did he do to you?" the headmaster whispered, and Harry wasn't sure whether the question was rhetorical or not, until they both stared at him expectantly.

Harry cleared his throat, biting at his bottom lip with nervousness. "He, um... I went hungry sometimes, and he would lock me in the cupboard under the stair," he said, and added at the look on Lupin's face, "it was my bedroom. And he would hit me a bit. 's not that bad, but ..." Harry trailed off, feeling younger than his thirteen years as he blathered like a child.

The headmaster stared at Harry for what seemed like hours, before Harry broke the stare, looking at the portraits in the room. "It seems I have failed you, Harry."

"Sir-" Harry protested, aghast at the thought.

Dumbledore released a weak smile, trying to reassure Harry. At the sight of the smile, which was so very weak, Harry was struck with the epiphany, that Dumbledore was human. He breathed a little easier, as Dumbledore continued speaking. "After your parents passing, I placed you in the care of the Dursley's, but I never imagined that there hatred of magic would influence their actions so very much."

"Why do they hate magic so much?" Harry asked, his voice feeling impossibly small.

"Why do you think they hate magic?" Dumbledore asked, and Harry wasn't sure how to answer for a moment. "Why didn't you tell someone?" Dumbledore whispered, and Harry knew the answer to both questions then.

"I guess, they just wanted to be normal. I just wanted to be normal," Harry muttered, looking at Dumbledore. He noticed a shattered look on Remus' face in the corner of the room.

"Professor?" he asked.

"You can't believe that what they do to you is normal. Please tell me you don't believe that."

"I don't believe that," Harry parroted, but they all knew he was lying.

"I'm so very sorry Harry," the headmaster said, and Harry was left gaping at him.

"I never imagined your aunt's and uncle's hatred of magic would lead to this," he repeated. "You said they withheld food from you?" the headmaster said, prodding Harry into talking about his experiences. Harry was not so naively fooled though, as his face shuttered off into a blank mask.

"Yeah, they, uh, did," he said. His face was blank, but his stuttering words still showed his discomfort.

"Harry," the headmaster said, after it became clear Harry had no plans on continuing. "Are you injured?"

"What?" Harry blurted out, his eyes gone wide. "Why would you say that?" he asked, and he looked away a moment later, knowing the answer to his own question.

"I can't imagine Professor Lupin would look this grave over withheld meals, though that in and of itself is a serious crime. You said your uncle would 'hit you a bit'. What exactly did you mean?"

"I...uh..." Harry said, and his heartbeat like a drum in his chest. "I...um...it wasn't that bad," he said, and his mask of indifference began to fail him, as he tried to gulp in fresh air. _'Don't panic. Breathe. Just breathe.'_

Harry could feel his mask of indifference failing him. He had perfected it over the years, but never before had he been confronted by these, some of his deepest nightmares before. Vernon may have been his boggart, but Harry knew it was the fallout from Vernon's actions that scared him the most. The mask had aided him over the years, because cheek and temper were a death sentence in the Dursley household. He had used his mask at young ages, but it was when he first started Hogwarts that he perfected it and honed his talent. It was his boy-who-lived, Gryffindor hero mask. The mask of bravery. It was disappearing though. Everything was changing.

_'Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.'_

The mask shattered, and Harry was left gulping in the oxygen.

An indefinite amount of time passed before Harry looked up. His heart had seemed to move a thousand miles a minute and in slow motion at the same time. His chest had been impossibly heavy, and no matter how much oxygen he had gulped in, he couldn't breathe. He could hear the professor's moving around, like they were at the end of a long tunnel, and their words were long and drawn out, like they were speaking underwater.

He looked up at them with weary eyes when his heart and mind had finally calmed. He blinked a few times. "Sir?" he said, looking around the room, blinking once again. He caught sight of Madame Pomfrey in the back of the room. "Sir?" he asked again, aghast.

Dumbledore came into his line of vision and then Lupin. "Are you alright now, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Ye-yeah," he said with a shaky voice, and he thought he heard Madame Pomfrey humph in the background. "I am, really," he reassured them. Their faces displayed their doubt of his reassurance though.

"Harry, my dear boy, I apologize for...startling you," Dumbledore said, and it was clear to Harry that Dumbledore wasn't quite sure what had caused his bout of panic. Or rather, he knew what had caused his panic, but not what had caused the absolute terror that had flooded Harry's body. Harry didn't either, not really. He had never lost complete control like that before.

"Madame Pomfrey is here to heal any injuries you may still suffer from. Shall we leave?" Dumbledore asked, clearly on pretense. Harry muttered back, "No, you can stay."

Madame Pomfrey approached, and Harry caught sight of a bag of potions on the desk behind her. He focused on his breaths.

"Mr. Potter," she said weakly. "It seems we can't go a semester without seeing each other," she commented, but the joke lacked the laugh behind it. Harry realized she _knew_. The look she was giving him killed a little part of him. Pity. She would never look at him the same again, Harry knew.

She waved her wand over him, muttering that it was a diagnostics charm when he asked. He sat there in the chair, waiting for the results, knowing it was not going to be good. What exactly did a diagnostics charm do? A lot of Harry's injuries were healed from the healing charm he had used, but he still had scars and a few nasty bruises that he had been unable to heal. Would the spell show them?

Three minutes passed and she was staring at a parchment that had appeared. A quill was writing by itself, and she was staring intently at the parchment. Finally, the quill popped away, she lowered her wand, and she reached for the parchment.

"Harry," she said, softly. "Perhaps you should come to the infirmary?"

He looked at her in bewilderment. He had used healing charms after all, so he couldn't be all that injured.

"Okay?" he said with a hint of a question.

"I'll be along shortly," she said, and he knew it was a dismissal. Harry knew they would be discussing him, and he tried to work up a sense of boy-who-lived indignant rage but failed. He walked out of the room silently, and he had a feeling the resignation in his walk scared them more than anything.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

For the next ten minutes, he swung his legs back and forth looking at the floor of the infirmary. Back and forth. Back and forth. He wondered what they were saying about him. He wondered what they thought of him. What did Lupin think? What did Dumbledore? He clearly hadn't known what was going on, but that oddly didn't make Harry feel any better.

The door opened and Madame Pomfrey walked in. A moment later, Professor Lupin followed.

"Where's the headmaster?" Harry asked, and a flash of emotion crossed the professor's face, before he commented that, "He was called away." Harry wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but he had a feeling the headmaster hadn't actually been called away.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, reaching for some potions. She started piling potions in front of him, and a moment later, she pointed to the small mountain that had accumulated. "Drink those."

"All of them?" he said, appalled. He caught a ghost of a smile on Lupin's face.

"Yes, all of them."

"What are they all for?" he asked. She stared at him for a long moment, as though deciding whether he really wanted to know. "This one is for malnutrition," she said pointing to one. She continued through the pile saying, "This is for bruising, and that one there is for your fractured bones." She rolled her eyes with a helpless look, as if saying, 'How on earth you couldn't notice fractured bones is beyond me.' "This one is for the long scratch on your upper back, and that is for your chipped tooth," she continued, indicating to the potions. "The last one there will remove as many scars as possible," he said, and Harry found his eyes flitting towards his back. He hadn't realized how many injuries he still had. Part of him realized he was used to living in pain.

As he downed the potions, Professor Lupin remained a silent presence to the right of his bed. Harry knew he wouldn't be leaving. It was only after he downed the last, that he realized Madame Pomfrey had only explained six potions and he had just drunk seven.

That thought stayed with him as the world faded out.

_Next Chapter: Harry awakens in the hospital wing. _

_Author's Plea: Please review this chapter. I haven't written fanfiction in ages, and I hope it's still good._


	8. Chapter 6: Shattered Normality

_Author's Note: Once again, I apologize for the long wait in between updates. Since my last update my computer has crashed and been saved. I've written a short story and submitted it to several magazines. I've also finished editing almost all of my novel. I've also obtained and lost a beta. (Anyone who is interested in beta-ing for me, please OWL me on the harrypotterfanfiction forums.) I've also gone through finals (and aced them, yay.) So, as far as excuses go, hey, at least I was productive._

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Chapter 6: Shattered Normality **

Harry awoke to heavy silence. He blinked repeatedly, trying to orient himself and figure out where he was. Looking around, he recognized the white walls of the hospital wing. His hand fumbled with his glasses on the table next to him. Finally, he could see again, but seeing Professor Lupin sitting next to him made him wish to be blind again. The events of the previous night came flooding back to him. Oh. This was going to be bad.

"Sir?" Harry asked, meeting the professor's eyes.

"Harry, how are you feeling?"

"Um…fine. I don't remember falling asleep here. I would've gone back to the dorms," Harry replied.

"Madame Pomfrey gave you a sleeping drought. She felt you could do with some rest."

"Oh," Harry said. He tried to work up some indignant rage, but found that he couldn't. He had been so very tired, after all. So very, very tired. "Sir…I don't mean to be rude, but what are you doing here?"

Looking at Professor Lupin, Harry saw he looked infinitely weary as he seemed to search for a proper reply.

"Do you remember, on the train, why I said the dementors came?" Professor Lupin asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, not quite sure where the conversation was headed. He had thought Professor Lupin would bring up the Dursleys immediately. "Sirius Black," Harry offered, when the professor seemed to be waiting for something more.

"Yes," Professor Lupin said, hesitantly.

Harry started to feel apprehensive. What was going on?

"What do you know about Sirius Black, Harry?"

"Um, Ron told me he killed a lot of people with one curse, and that he escaped from Azkaban recently, Professor."

Professor Lupin looked almost disappointed by how little Harry knew for a moment, before he said, "Alright. Well, last night, Harry, Sirius Black broke into the school." The professor still looked hesitant and apprehensive, and when he added, "into Gryffindor tower," Harry understood why.

Oh. Oh no. Was that why Professor Lupin wasn't interrogating him about the Dursleys? He was distracted by the break in? Had Black hurt one of his friends? Ron? Hermione? _Oh, no. _Harry couldn't quite manage to get any of that out though. He did blanch pale white, as he mouthed, "Oh."

Professor Lupin seemed distracted, but when he turned his attention back to Harry, he seemed to instantly understand. "He didn't hurt anyone, Harry!" he reassured immediately. "Your friends are safe. _No one _was hurt."

"But, Professor Lupin," Harry began, sitting straight up in bed, now that his heart was beating normally again, "I-I know that's bad, but why are you the one telling me?"

"Due to recent… circumstances," Professor Lupin said, "I felt it would be best if I were the one to tell you…"

"Tell me about the break in?" Harry finished for him.

"No, Harry," the professor corrected softly. "I hate to tell you this, but there are some things about Sirius Black that you haven't been told."

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

Harry almost wished that Professor Lupin was interrogating him about the Dursleys instead of telling him this.

Almost.

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

The portrait to Gryffindor tower opened slowly, and Harry immediately noted that the common room seemed dead silent, despite being filled to the core. In the corner, he could see some first years huddled up, as though they would be safer by the closeness. He saw some of his classmates by the fire, along with some of the fourth years. Harry's eyes flickered around the room, noticing people here and there, but he couldn't find Ron or Hermione.

Resigned, he headed up towards his dorm. As he walked in, he immediately saw Ron and Hermione leaning up against his bed.

"Harry!" they both shouted, leaping up.

"Hey," Harry said, ashamed that his voice broke a little. "You guys are both okay?"

"Yeah," Ron reassured. "We're okay."

They stood in silent gratefulness for a moment, before Hermione said, "So you heard?"

"Yeah, Professor Lupin told me. What happened?" Harry asked, desperate to know more than the official version. Desperate to hear that the official version was wrong, and Sirius Black hadn't come at his friend with a knife, looking for Harry.

Ron hesitated, and with that Harry knew no amount of desperation would change what had happened. Ron wasn't the type of person to hesitate, after all.

"I woke up, and Sirius Black was over me. He had slashed the curtains, and of course, I scream bloody murder…" Ron began.

Ron's explanation, with Hermione's input every few seconds, only took a few minutes.

Hermione ended off saying, "I guess it was a good thing you weren't in the dorms."

This of course led to them asking Harry what had happened to him after class. He was hesitant to tell them the truth. It seemed Professor Lupin had forgotten about it, due to the near-disaster last night. They wouldn't let it drop though, pestering him. It almost seemed like they _knew. _

"Yeah, Harry," Ron added. "You never came back last night, not to the dorms or to the Great Hall later."

'_Lie. Don't lie. Lie. Don't lie. Lie. Don't lie. Lie. Don't lie. Why would you lie to your best friend? Lie. Don't lie. Lie. Lie. Lie. They don't know. Professor Lupin may not bring it up again. Maybe Dumbledore will be to busy. Lie. Lie. Lie. To Ron and Hermione? To your best friends? You can't lose them.'_

He couldn't bear the thought of losing them, but he couldn't bear the thought of lying to them. It wouldn't be the first time, but never before had they questioned him like this - _like they already knew the answer. _Harry shook away his paranoia as he half-lied, "Professor Lupin wanted to explain to me about Sirius Black. How he's after me."

"So what everyone's been saying is true?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, Hermione. It's true, but… there's more," Harry said. "Sirius Black was my parents' Secret Keeper."

Harry wanted to work up some anger for his situation. He was furious at this man, this man he didn't even know, for causing his parents death. And he knew it was selfish, but he was more furious at the man for landing him at the Dursleys.

"…and I can't believe this, but he's my godfather," Harry finished.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed. "Your godfather." She sounded ill.

"Yes. Don't I just have the best family?" he asked, cursing himself the second he did. He had maneuvered them away from the topic of Sirius Black positively like a Slytherin, he liked to think. Yet, he had damned himself by bringing it up again.

He saw the moment the thought came into their minds. So it was to no surprise when Ron said, "Harry…"

Harry rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yes?"

"Your… boggart. Professor Lupin talked to you about your boggart too… didn't he?"

'_Lie… Don't lie. Don't lie.' _His internal debate was much shorter this time. Hiding was just so tiring.

"He did," Harry choked out, wondering how to begin.

He didn't have to though when Hermione interrupted his train of thought, blurting out, "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"What?" He was bewildered.

"This should never have happened. I should have just paid more attention, to what you said about your family, but no, I was just so ignorant! I should've known how they treated you! I should've _known._"

"Hermione," Harry said, reaching forward to pat her shoulder, to try to calm her. She pulled him close for a hug, though, as Ron watched awkwardly from the background. He winced from surprise, and she immediately jerked away from him.

"Oh, are you hurt? Oh, no!"

"No," Harry reassured her. "I'm fine. And I… don't blame you," he said, wondering how they had skipped an entire part of their conversation. Wondering at her guilt. "It's not your fault, at all. I… no one knew," he said to her. Then he turned to Ron, "I'm fine. I spent the night in the hospital wing, and I'm fine now."

Ron swallowed harshly. "So… it's true?"

Harry didn't ask what 'it' was; he simply nodded.

"And you're okay, now?" Ron asked, gruffly.

"I'm fine, Ron," Harry said. He almost believed it.

"You're not going back there," Hermione said, finally calmed. Now she seemed forceful and sure of herself again.

"I… I don't think so… no," Harry said. He hadn't realized the problem with the adults being focused on Sirius Black. He might actually have to go back there. For years, he had hid his secret. Now, the idea of going back there when people actually knew the truth was unbearable.

"No, no '_think,'_"Hermione said. Ron moved next to her, standing by her side. "Harry, you are _never _going back there." They stood together there with him.

And, despite their young age, despite the world against them, despite another madman after him, despite the night he had just spent in the hospital wing, Harry believed her.

He had every reason to believe the worst and shake his head sadly at her words. He had every reason to be distrustful and hurtful. There were days that he was those things. There were days that he didn't believe in Hermione's words or Ron's reassurances. There were days that he didn't believe in anything.

Then there were days that he defeated a dark lord or his memory. There were days he battled snakes and trolls. There were days when he was the-boy-who-lived,and even the thought of his uncle didn't scare him.

Better than the days of his Gryffindor courage and the days his tragic past overshadowed his present were the days like today. The days where his life-long secret was found out, a madman was after him, and that madman happened to be his godfather. Those were the days, though, because he didn't have to spill his secret, his best friends simply _knew. _For once, Harry was grateful for that.

They knew, and he didn't have to tell them, and as much as he had wanted them to, they hadn't forgotten about what had happened. And it _hurt _that Lupin hadn't mentioned the Dursleys. He hadn't wanted him to, but it still hurt that he had been forgotten -- again.

All this horribleness, and they were the ones to apologize to him _(like they were the ones who were wrong)_, and somehow, ten minutes later, they went into the Common Room, filled with their scared classmates, and started a House-wide chess match. (Harry knew Ron had only suggested the match to cheer him up. Harry thanked him. Ron didn't ask why.)

They would have to talk more about Black and the Dursleys, Harry knew. Hermione would interrogate him eventually, and Ron and she would ask him all those _why's_. For the first time ever, Harry realized he wasn't afraid of answering. That day, though, they ignored all that, and they played. The match went throughout all of Gryffindor, and by the time the day was over, the spell of doom and depression had been countered, if only for a little while.

Harry lost every match he played, rather terribly.

And smiled.


End file.
